Christmas Soup
by cutestkidsmom
Summary: When you don't have much, is giving up your last dollar really that bad? What can come of offering a stranger a bowl of soup? This is a Christmas One-shot Rated M for language.


**Disclaimer~ I don't own anything Twilight related!**

**This, I wrote for fun. It is a Christmas One shot, UnBeta'd because it came to me with little time to spare.**

**Please Enjoy! Happy Holidays!**

Christmas Soup

Stir, sprinkle and repeat. This is the mantra I am currently playing in my head as I make what my mother dubs as Christmas soup.

Every year we make this together with whatever ingredients we just so happen to have hanging around the house.

This year I am doing it alone. My mother is currently laying on our old tattered couch fast asleep after her latest doses of medicine have taken effect.

She was diagnosed with breast cancer six months ago. She is a fighter and she kicked its ass, but, unfortunately she needs to take all of these meds for awhile longer. They knock her out.

Being she has been unable to work for the last year, we are living off of her disability check and the small check I get from working at the diner, part time.

I take a spoon and dip it into this year's creation. I shudder at its nasty taste. I am going to have to cheat and go to the store.

I walk over to my mom and nudge her a bit. "Mom?"

Her eyes flutter open. "Yeah, baby, what's wrong?" she says with a raspy voice.

"I need to go to the store, seriously, the soup sucks, and it needs salt or cheese, anything." I say with a slight chuckle.

"Oh, alright, go ahead. I have ten dollars in my purse. It's all that's left but take it baby, make that soup amazing." She smiles at me and I lean down and kiss her forehead.

"I will be back in about twenty minutes."

She nods and sleep claims her once again.

. . .

I pull up to Jake's convenient store and stroll on inside. The jingle bells chime announcing my presence.

"Hey, Bella, how's it going?" Jake asks as he hops the counter and greets me with a smile.

"Not much, I need salt and maybe dill?" I shrug. I'm not really sure what I want.

He gestures with his hand and I follow him. "Here," he points to a shelf.

"Sue stocks this all the time. It has dill, rosemary; you know all that shit people use to make their food taste yummy." He rubs his belly.

"Great, thanks," I say as I take a small thing of salt and small dill. I add it up in my head. Okay, it leaves me with three more dollars. I quickly look around. "Cheese?"

He walks over to the deli area. "What kind?"

I purse my lips, thinking. "Parm?"

He nods and hands me a jar of grated parmesan.

I mentally fist pump when I realize I will have one whole dollar to spare.

I walk up to the counter and hand Jake the ten. I jump slightly when I hear a bang. I look toward the window and I see a man in a long brown winter coat, black hat and dark boots. I can't see his face since his back is to me.

Jake grunts. "Geez, this guy again." He bangs the window. "Fuck off!" Jake shouts.

"Who is he?" I ask, unable to take my eyes off the guy who flips Jake the bird.

"He has been coming by here all week looking for free handouts. Motherfucker needs to get himself a job." He rolls his eyes.

"It's Christmas, Jake, in two days. Be nice."

He scoffs. "Whatever Bells."

He hands me my change and I take my bag and head out.

"Excuse me Miss?" I hear a low, quiet voice call for me.

I turn around and am assaulted with piercing green eyes, and a tender smile.

"Yes?"

"Can you spare some change?" he asks as he holds out cupped hands.

I look at his hands and then at his face. It is like looking at the face of an angel. His eyes are storms of sorrow, and adventures. He doesn't look much older than me but the wrinkles on his forehead show me that he has been stressed for far too long.

"Change." I repeat his words. I am unable to remove my gaze from his.

"Yes, it jingles like bells in your pocket. Some people think nothing of it; they toss it away like an afterthought. But, change is a treasure to someone like me." he says with conviction.

"Wow, I never really thought about change like that." I chuckle.

He shrugs. "Please?"

I nod and hand him my last dollar. "It's all I have, I wish it was more," I say.

He stares at the dollar like it's the golden ticket. "It's all you have?" he whispers.

I shrug. "No big deal, I don't really need anything right now. You keep it." I offer him a smile. He looks up at me with a slight curl in his lip.

We jump when Jake hits the glass again. I roll my eyes. "You really can't be here," I say.

"Where am I going to go?" he asks.

"There are shelters." I look down the street toward St. Paul's Church. "What about the congregation down the street?"

He shakes his head. "All filled up for the night. They crowd on nights like tonight."

"Because of the cold or because Christmas is soon?" I ask.

"Both."

I nod. I have to get back to my mom, but I just can't walk away. "What's your name?" I ask him. His head snaps up.

"My name?"

"Yeah, you have one right?" I inch a little closer to him.

"Ward," he whispers.

"Well, Ward, I'm Bella." I hold out my hand. "It's great to meet you."

He looks at my hand then at my face. Eventually, he takes my hand in his. I gasp at how cold he is.

"You're freezing," I say.

"It is winter, Bella," he says with a chuckle.

True, it is, and it's cold and he is alone... Fuck!

"Do you like soup?"

He looks at me confused. "Soup?"

I nod. "Yes, it's hot and you eat it out of a bowl with a..."

"I know what soup is, I'm not stupid." He chuckles.

"Oh, I didn't mean..." I huff. "Anyway, do you?"

"I am a grateful person, Bella, I eat whatever is provided for me. I wear what is offered, and I sleep where the good Lord tells me too. So, yes, I like soup." He smiles.

He smiles... it's warm... it's peace.

"I make Christmas soup," I say in a rush.

"I bet it's wonderful," he says with yet another smile.

I shrug. "Not always, sometimes though. We make it with whatever we have around the house."

"We?"

"My mom and I. We usually do it together, but this year I am doing it alone." His eyes widen at my words.

"Oh, no, she is alive, just sick."

He relaxes and nods.

"Anyway, do you want to come have some?" I ask and he gives me a confused look.

"You are inviting me into your home?" He sounds shocked. I guess I can understand why. I'm sure not a lot of people invite strangers, let alone homeless men into their home.

"Yes." I stand tall and hold my head up. It's the right thing to do. My mom would do it.

He takes a few steps toward me. "Why?" he asks.

I shrug. "It's almost Christmas, no one should be alone."

I swear I see his green eyes twinkle with delight.

"Alright, I would love to."

He sits in my small beat up gremlin and tries to push the seat back. He has some difficulty so I lean forward to grab the bar under the seat.

As I get close I am taken back by his delicious scent. I would have thought he would smell like garbage maybe?

But he smells of mint, sandalwood and apple pie.

"There," he says when it pushes back.

The car ride is quiet. I sneak glances at him here and there. His jeans are worn thin in the knees. He has no gloves and his sweater is severely outdated.

He is strumming his fingers on his leg to a beat I don't hear. I don't interrupt him though because he has a really content smile on his face.

...

We pull up to my house and his eyes glance up.

"Is this your home?" he asks.

"Yup."

I grab the shopping bag and start for the door. Ward is moving slowly.

"Put a little pep in your step, Ward, I have a soup to finish." I give him a smile and he perks up and walks a little faster.

When I open the door my attention goes to the sound of a toilet flushing. I drop the bag and dart to the back of the house, just in time to see my mom shuffle out.

"Mom, you alright?" I see her clutching her stomach.

"Yes, fine baby, did you get what you needed?" she asks.

I nod and wrap an arm around her waist and help her back to the couch. She looks up and sees Ward. He is watching her carefully.

He has removed his hat and his bronze hair is in utter disarray.

"Hello?" my mom says as she looks from Ward to me.

"Oh, Mom, this is Ward. He is having dinner with us tonight." I say as she sits down.

"I see, well, great to have you Ward." She lays her head back down and shivers.

"Let me get you a blanket." I grab one from the end of the couch. "Here." I tuck her in snug.

When she is settled I head into the kitchen. Ward follows behind me, holding the bag I had dropped when I ran to my mother.

"Great, thanks," I say as I take the bag from him.

"Can I help?" he asks and I smile.

"Sure, I need to make this soup taste better."

He walks to the stove with me and leans over the pot. He closes his eyes and takes a whiff. As he stands there letting the mist engulf him I study his features. He isn't dirty, he is clean. His clothes are tattered but not covered in filth. He smells intoxicating and he is gorgeous.

"Are you an angel?" The words slip out of my mouth and I immediately cover it.

His eyes lids open and he turns to face me.

"Why do you ask me that?"

"You aren't like any other homeless man I have ever met."

He smiles. "You meet a lot of bums?"

I shake my head. "I mean, you are clean, you smell great and... I don't know, forget it." I wave it off and start sprinkling some dill into the soup.

"I am not an angel Bella," he whispers close to my ear and I involuntarily shudder from the feel of his warm breath on my cheek.

"Okay." It is all I can say. I focus on the soup.

"Are you an angel, Bella?" he asks. He is still standing close to me.

"Ha!" I huff. "No way."

"You take care of your Mom; you go to school and work I am assuming. And on the rare occasions you take in the homeless. These days that is the exact definition of an angel."

At this, I actually do look at him. His eyes, my God, they are hypnotic. I feel some sort of pull toward this man. "No, I am not an angel, Ward." My words are a whisper.

"I'm not so sure," he mumbles as he steps back and grabs the salt.

"Look the soup needs a little while longer." I look over his outfit. "You will probably fit into my Dad's clothes. How about we get you fixed up?"

He lets out a lone chuckle. "So says the woman who swears she isn't an angel."

"So chuckles the man who swears the same." I arch an eyebrow at him.

"Fair enough, but I don't want to intrude. How will your father feel about a stranger wearing his clothes?"

"My father passed away a year ago. I don't think he will mind." I start for the stairs. I don't want to hear the sympathy. I just want to get Ward into better clothes. He doesn't seem like a bad guy. Maybe, he made a bad bet in the stock market. Who knows?

I walk into my mom's room and open the closet. My dad's stuff is still hanging there. I grab a t-shirt, a flannel shirt, a pair of jeans and a belt. I then walk to the drawer. I open up a fresh bag of boxers and socks. I laugh because I remember asking my dad why he had so many unopened bags of socks and boxers once and he said, "Because you never know."

How true that is.

I turn and crash into a hard body. I look up and I see those eyes again.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi."

I hand him the boxers and socks. "There are clothes on the bed. Feel free to shower and change or whatever. There is a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet."

He says nothing, his eyes bore into me. I can feel the power of his gaze throughout my entire body.

"Thank you." He clutches what I give him. He grabs the clothes and he exits the room.

I stand there frozen, shrouded in his magic smell that dances around my body. Who is this man?

When I hear the water turn on I head downstairs. I continue with the soup. I hum jingle bells, because why not. I love Christmas.

After a little while I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn and I almost feel the air leave my lungs.

Ward stands there in the clothes I gave him, freshly shaved, hair wet and all over the place, yet it is also in order. He has a bright smile on his face and I am just standing here gaping at him.

"Wow," I mutter.

"Yeah, I clean up good I guess," he says with a chuckle.

As my eyes rake over his features I am struck with an odd sense of familiarity.

"Have we ever met?" I ask as I point a wooden spoon in his direction.

He shakes his head. "No."

I shrug. "Well you clean up amazingly," I say as I turn around and start stirring the soup.

"It smells fantastic," he whispers next to my ear again. So close, always so close.

"Thanks."

"Can I help?" he asks as his hand covers mine and he starts stirring the soup with me.

"It... uhm... I don't think two people have to do this part." I clear my throat.

"I know." It's all he says as he continues stirring with me.

I hear my mom moving around and I turn toward her. She is fast asleep, just thrashing a bit.

My eyes shift back toward the pot but stop mid way when they lock on Wards. He is staring at me. His face is so serious, and yet it has a hint of wonder to it.

"Ward?"

"Hmm?" he says, his eyes never leaving mine.

"How did you become homeless?" I know it's rude, but I have a sudden need to know everything about him.

"I guess you can say it's my calling." He shrugs.

"You're calling?" I chuckle. "And you say you aren't an angel. What kind of person would choose to be homeless?"

"I didn't say I chose it. It was given to me... Well kind of." He rolls his eyes. "It's complicated."

"I would love to hear it." I lean on the counter.

He regards me carefully. "How long has your Mom been sick?" he asks.

"No, no you can't ignore my question."

He huffs. "How long?" His voice is serious.

"Six months, now your turn."

"I find this life, makes more sense." He takes a breath. "What is she diagnosed with?"

"Breast cancer, now what do you mean by this life makes more sense?"

He lolls his head back and forth. "The life I led before this one was cluttered; I was surrounded by demons, thieves and liars. The streets don't lie. The open their arms and say right off the bat 'you can't trust me'."

I nod.

"What is your financial situation like?" he asks.

"Better than yours," I laugh.

"Touché," he quips. "But, seriously, how bad is it?"

I shrug. "We live off of my Mom's disability check and my part time waitressing check."

He looks around. His eyes stop for a moment on the Christmas tree that is lit up next to the small fireplace.

"Do you have family?" I ask.

"Do you?" he retorts.

We lock eyes and shake our heads at the same time... We are both alone.

The soup starts to boil so I stir. I lift the spoon to my lips and slurp... Perfect!

"It's ready," I say and he smiles.

"Great, can I set the table?" he asks.

"Sure, bowls and such are in the cabinets above the dishwasher."

He gets right to work. I walk to my mother and try and wake her. She says she is too weak to get to the table so I bring her some soup. I help her take a few spoonfuls. After a bit she holds her hand up.

"No more, baby, I'm done. It was delicious."

She lies back down and slips back to sleep.

I go back to the kitchen and halt when I see the table is set and candles are lit in the center.

"What's all this?" I ask, slightly amused.

"You said I could set the table."

I nod. "Yes, but all of this? The candles?"

He shrugs. "It's for ambiance," he chuckles.

I sit down slowly. The bowls are filled; there are two glasses of ice water, candles and silver wear.

"This is sweet, Ward, but you didn't have to do this."

He bites his bottom lip clearly trying to suppress a laugh. "I know but I wanted to."

"Why?" I ask as I sip my soup.

He stares at my mouth for a moment and then his eyes shoot up to meet mine.

"I have been standing by that convenient store for a week, Bella, a week."

I nod. "I heard, Jake told me."

"Yeah, well in that time no one even gave me a penny. But then you came. You gave me the last dollar to your name, drove me to your home, let me bathe, get changed in clothes that were your father's, and now you are feeding me." He stares at me with such intensity.

"Okay, well, when you put it that way, I sound kind of awesome." I laugh uncomfortably.

He stands suddenly and within a second he is on his knees beside me. He grabs my legs and turns me to face him.

"Never, in all of my life have I ever encountered a more selfless, amazing person."

Words fail me. I can't talk so I don't I just listen.

"I do this every year," he says. Defeat lingers in his tone.

I am confused now. "Do what?"

"I go out to areas around Washington; I stand there begging for a week. No one really cares. I think I end up with about forty dollars." he shrugs.

"Why?" I ask.

"I've been looking for something, someone."

"Who?" My voice cracks slightly. I can feel his hands on my legs, and the circles he is lazily rubbing on my thigh is making me a little dizzy.

"You, Bella, I have been looking for you." He shifts a little and is only an inch from my face.

"I am going to kiss you now. Please don't bite me, or punch me."

I would normally laugh if I wasn't so unbelievably turned on right now. Sure enough he closes in and his tender soft lips brush against mine.

I can taste his scent as is crawls up my nose. His lips massage mine and I slowly bring my hands up and lightly grasp his arms.

He grazes his tongue over my lips and I open for him. I feel like his kiss is serenading me to succumb to his will.

I can feel my body awaken with each sweep his tongue makes over mine.

He wraps his arms around me and crashes my body to his.

"Bella," he whispers between kisses.

"Ward," I whimper.

My hands find his hair and I grip it tightly and push him infinitely closer to me.

He growls lightly and I can't help the smile that forms on my lips when I hear it.

When he pulls away I can see the hooded lustful gaze that adorns his eyes.

"Let me help you," he says through ragged breaths.

"What?" I am confused again.

"I'm not homeless, never have been. But ten years ago, I met a boy on the street. I was only sixteen at the time, and I was stupid. Anyway, the kid was dirty, poor and he stunk. He asked me for change and I laughed at him. I was Ivy League and he was poison ivy. I was far too good for him. I earned my money. So I told him to fuck off and I went home."

He lets out a breath. "But the next day as I was passing through the same area, I saw cops and an ambulance. I started talking to one of the cops; they said a kid was shot last night behind a dumpster. I thought nothing of it until that night I saw his face on the news. It was the same kid I told to fuck off."

He starts rubbing his chest. "Every year, I do this. I try to put myself in his shoes and see how bad his life was, and find some way to fix it." He screws his eyes shut.

"I never found it; this year was my last chance to find hope." He opens his eyes and I smile when I see that lovely green. "Then you came along, and you showed me what just one person can do."

I shake my head. "Oh, Ward, you do this to punish yourself?"

"No, I do it to remember what I never want to be again."

I lean closer and tenderly kiss his lips.

"So, who is Ward then?"

He takes my hands in his and kisses each finger. "I am Edward Cullen, of Cullen Corporation. I am worth over a billion dollars. I own eleven shelters in Washington, and three houses. Two of which are being used for orphanages."

My heart nearly bursts out of my chest for the generosity of this man. "Wow."

He shrugs. "I want to make a better world."

He looks at my eyes and smiles. "Let me take care of you and your Mom. I can get her proper care, and you can relax a little."

I am dumbfounded. "What?"

"Bella, please. You do good deeds daily because it's the right thing to do. I want to help you." He inches closer and takes my head in his hands.

"I want to be selfless, together. Your heart is sexy, and I want to be around it. I want your Mother better so you'll feel better. I want to do this."

"All because I offered you some Christmas soup?" I say with a chuckle.

"No, because you saw me, because you really saw me."

He pulls my face to his and kisses me deeply.

...

So, I do. I let him help me. I take a chance on a stranger.

And, he doesn't disappoint. My mother gets the best doctors, and Nurses Ward's money can buy. When I am not in class at the local college, I am following him around trying to make a difference.

I still make Christmas soup every year with my mom, and now with Ward. But, we do it at a soup kitchen.

.

.

.

**MERRY CHRISTMAS!**


End file.
